(I do not own the Hobbit or anything related to it)

Note: It gets better as it gets towards the end. The point of views are listed (just so you know). Enjoy.


The first to fall was Thorin.

A javelin struck him in the shoulder, coming from seemingly nowhere. The king grunted with surprise as the weight nearly dragged him to the ground. Pulling out the offending object, he hurled it back in the direction it had come from and nearly passed out from the pain. He continued to fight though, driving back the enemy in a frenzied attack. The dead lay underfoot; them and the enemy. He had seen many dwarves fall screaming to the goblins and orcs, and guilt racked him each and every time. Another good dwarf lost. Another life wasted.

He searched the battlefield with slightly panicked eyes in the slight pause in the onslaught, looking for his nephews and heirs. Spying them across from him he relaxed, noting that both seemed to relatively unharmed. Then his view of the pair was obscured by a hideous face he cut down without a second thought.

Thorin could feel his reflexes slowing as the wound in his shoulder took its toll. Blood streamed from the gaping hole and he nearly passed out again another three times.

The enemy, sensing his weakness, had surrounded him and were taunting him with small jabs here and there, wearing him down further. The king surprised them though and barrelled forward, swinging his blade left and right, cleaving the enemy's skulls in two. What he had not accounted for, however, was for one of them to get behind him. So it was with great shock that he looked down on the blade protruding from his middle.

Thorin collapsed slowly to the ground, hearing his name being called out over the sounds of the battle. Darkness clung to the edges of his vision but he fought it back, unwilling to close his eyes.


"Thorin!" Fili had seen his uncle fall to his knees as the goblin had withdrawn its blade. The blonde dwarf fought his way over to his injured leader, desperately trying to get to him before the creature standing over the king could land the final blow.

Shoving both friend and foe aside, Fili barged through the sea of twisted limbs and flashing swords. He could feel Kili close behind him, protecting his back as he ran single-mindedly towards their uncle.

He shouted again as he saw the goblin start to bring down its blade and in desperation threw one of his swords, praying to Aulë that it would hit its mark. It did, burying itself hilt deep into the gut of the creature even as the brothers made it to the fallen king.

Taking their places over him, Fili pulled his sword from the body, kicking it away with his foot so he could have more room to stand. Thorin was still kneeling between them, looking dazed and in pain. Blood streamed from his many wounds, pooling on the ground beside him and soaking the bottoms of their already blood soaked boots.

Parrying yet another blow, Fili glanced over at his brother and saw him struggling to do the same. His dark hair was flying wildly around him as he blocked and thrust, alternating between the two as the attacks continued.

Kili looked over to him and his face widened in shock. Even as he called out a warning, Fili turned and was met with the sound of arrow hitting flesh, once, twice, three times. One in his arm, one in his gut and one in his chest.

The golden haired dwarf felt himself falling slowly to the ground, blacking out for a second before coming to, his brother's face millimetres from his own.

"Fili?" he heard the young dwarf ask and Fili pushed him away weakly.

"Protect yourself and Thorin," he grunted, groaning as the pain ripped through his entire being.


Kili watched, unable to do anything to help his brother. The three arrows sticking out of him were all tipped with barbs, meaning he couldn't pull them out. He didn't want to anyway, not, at least, until he could seek proper treatment for his brother and uncle.

Turning his back to the fallen pair, the young dwarf retook his position, standing over his injured kin so as to protect them from further harm. He parried blow after blow, sweat dripping down the back of his neck as he panted with the effort.

In truth, he was scared. Even more so now than before. His brother and uncle had fallen, the two forces in his life that were consistent and always there. Now he had to deal with the fact he may very well lose them both.

The thought was unbearable and Kili tried not to let his mind stray there, but it was no use. Images of his past; Fili laughing, Thorin rolling his eyes in exasperation, both of them scolding him for doing something stupid; flooded his mind and he felt tears begin to form, misting his eyes and making it hard to see. The goblins and orcs became blurry figures, moving against an equally blurry background as the tears freed themselves and streamed down his face. His arms were tired with the effort of blocking the blows that the enemy put up and the groans coming from his brother and uncle behind him only served to further wear him down, stripping away any emotional defence he had built.

And so fell the youngest of the line of Durin.


Thorin watched, heartbroken, as his youngest nephew was struck down, unable to do anything to help. He watched as the goblin that had struck the blow too fell, Kili's blade protruding from its heart, its own blade sliding free of the young dwarf it was buried in. He watched as Fili pulled himself towards his brother, ignoring his own pain in order to comfort his sibling. He watched as the blonde dwarf pulled Kili into an embrace, surrounding him with his strong arms, and he continued to watch as his vision faded and the pain intensified.

Thorin felt arms scoop him up and the fur beneath those arms. He didn't want to go, but he was too weak to struggle or protest. Hearing the pain filled cries of his sister-sons behind him, he allowed his eyes to drift close, no longer having the strength to hold them open.


Fili was glade that Beorn had carried Thorin away. He could have peace of mind in at least knowing his uncle was safe. Focusing on the face close to his, he continued to whisper reassurances, trying to calm his brother and ease his passing as the pool of their mingled blood grew around them.

There were no two ways about it. His little brother was going to die.

"Shush, Kili, shush. I know it hurts." Fili gently rocked the young dwarf back and forth, his chin resting atop his brother's head. "Hush now brother, it will stop soon."

Kili's sobs filled his ears, blocking out all other sounds and tearing at his heart. This should have not happened, he should have been there to protect him. His brother should not have had to stand alone. He had a duty as an older brother to protect the young dwarf and he had failed. Now it was his duty as an older brother to comfort him as he died.

Closing his eyes, Fili tightened his hold on Kili, feeling his sibling's trembling beneath his mangled armour. Opening his mouth, he proceeded to sing in a last ditch attempt to stop his brothers tears.

"Far over the misty mountains cold,"

The battle was strangely quiet around them.

"To dungeons deep and mountains old,"

There was yelling, then a great cheering erupted.

"We must away, ere break of day,"

Kili's trembling slowly subsided and his crying slowed.

"To find our long, forgotten gold."

Kili sniffed and hiccupped, tears forgotten as he was captivated by his brother's voice.

"The pines were roaring on the heights,"

There were two voices now; one strong and deep, the other soft and small.

"The wind was moaning in the night,"

The voices melded together, harmonising in the bloodstained air.

"The fire was red, it flaming spread,"

A small gasp from beneath him and Fili felt his brother still.

"The trees like torches, blazed with light."

The last line rung out across the now silent battlefield, its low and sorrowful note driving a knife through every heart that heard.

Fili opened his eyes and finally allowed his tears to fall, rocking his little brother back and forth. He did not cry out in anguish or pain, rather staring into nothing as his silent tears pooled atop his brother's head, not seeing the large gathering of survivors around them.

Elf, man and dwarf; all were present to witness the tragic scene unfold. All were speechless and deeply moved by the entwined brothers that lay before them.

With a shuddering sigh, Fili relaxed his grip on Kili and the world, his eyes glazing over and the blood flow ceasing, before finally stopping altogether.

One by one, those gathered bowed their heads as a last tribute to the youngest heirs of Durin. And as a soft sprinkling of rain began, not even the hardest heart could withhold the tears of sorrow that dwelled deep within them.


Thorin had not screamed when he had heard. He had not raged or wept or performed any other manner that might have fitted this scenario. Rather, he had let a solitary tear track down his face and withdrew from the world.

It did not matter that the Arkenstone was returned or the goblins vanquished or Erober finally won. It did not matter that he was king and held a duty to his people.

He had held a duty to his nephews and had failed.

Balin's voice spoke beside him, but he ignored the pleading tone, the stern threats and the scolding words. He had lost everyone that mattered deeply to him; grandfather, father, mother, brother and sister. Now the two things that had given him joy in his long and miserable life, that had made life worth living, were gone as well.

The king had apologised to the hobbit, coming out of his withdrawn state enough to wish him well on his return home. After that, he had curled in on himself again, unwilling to face the world.

Thorin no longer feared the pain now. He welcomed it with open arms. It took his mind off things, giving him a brief respite from the guilt that was eating him up from the inside. The healers were doing everything they could to keep him alive, but in the end, he knew it would do no good. To live, you needed a soul and he was only an empty shell. Everything else had been stripped from him, whether through fate or his own doing he did not know.

The broken king sunk into the bed upon which he laid, relinquishing the sheets' coolness against his hot skin. He smiled to himself. It would not be long now until he joined them.